Psych: Thanksgiving Daze
by spookysister7
Summary: Thanksgiving at Henry's should have been pleasant. Instead there are shootouts, babies on the lamb, and psychic visions. Just another one of Lassie's typical holidays. Sequel to Halloween Knights. Lassie/OFC.
1. Chapter 1: Closing Time

Psych: Thanksgiving Daze

Summary: Sequel to Halloween Knights. Part 2 in Lassie's Holi-daze series. Lassiter and Angeline survived Halloween and are staying at Henry's for safety. With Thanksgiving quickly approaching, will Daemon and company strike again? Lassie/OFC

AN: The title of this chapter is "Closing Time" by Semisonic. "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

I promised you a continuation, didn't I? Well, here is part 2 in the four part Lassie's Holi-daze series. Comes after Halloween Knights. You need to read that first.

Chapter 1: Closing Time

They couldn't go home, but they couldn't stay here.

It was like a bad song title, but the words echoed in Carlton's mind. His home was a crime scene, both literally and figuratively. There was no way he was dragging Angeline back there. But this hovel they called a safe-house wasn't going to cut it. For one, the bed was too small for both of them.

A twinge of doubt crept into his mind as Angeline breathed gently across his bare shoulder. Had he been lured in once again by her lies? Or was she telling the truth now? Why was it so hard for him to tell? He was usually so good at reading suspects.

Lassiter shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable in a bed that was two feet too short for his lanky form. Angeline's hand covered the gauze-wrapped wound on his stomach, hovering protectively over it. She hadn't been able to stop crying when she saw it. He had held her silently until she had fallen asleep, still sniffling and apologizing quietly.

Where would they go? It wasn't like he or she were bursting with friends, so the list was startlingly short. Buzz and his wife wouldn't deny them a place on the couch, but he couldn't stomach the thought of waking up to the giant's goofy smile. Besides, a couch is even worse than a twin bed. Spencer and Guster were both out. No telling what off-the-wall place Spencer called home and Guster was strangely OCD.

The Chief had an extra bedroom, but Iris was in her terrible twos, and he had no desire to subject himself to that torture. That left only one place. Spencer Senior's.

Lassiter moaned lightly at the thought of being subjected to one of the endless lectures the man was so famous for, but he did have a house on the beach, which Angeline would love. With Angeline there as a buffer of sorts, maybe he wouldn't have the urge to strangle the man quite as quickly. Plus, as an ex-police officer, Henry was more than able to protect himself, so Lassiter didn't have to feel guilty about dragging a civilian into potentially hazardous duty.

-000-

"I hope you'll fit," Henry said, eying the full-sized bed dubiously, "I guess it's better than Shawn's twin at least."

Lassiter dropped the bag he was carrying on the floor of the guest room with a small sigh.

"Thanks Henry. It's much better than the shack they had us holed up in."

"No problem," Henry said with a shrug, "At least you asked. Shawn usually just drops in and expects me to make room."

"I remember you," Angeline said softly, startling them both. She'd been so quiet that they'd forgotten she was there.

"What?" Lassiter asked, looking between Henry and her in confusion. Henry just smiled cryptically.

"You were in the hospital," Angeline said hesitantly.

"You were?" Lassiter asked, turning towards Henry.

He nodded, chuckling lightly.

"Yep. Don't know how you remember though. You were out like a light," Henry said.

Angeline frowned.

"I remember your voice. You were telling me something…"

Henry waved his hand dismissively.

"Nothing important. Now, I'll let you kids settle in while I get dinner on. Fish don't clean themselves!"

As Henry left, Lassiter investigated the room; noting the lock on the window- solid- and the possible hiding places for the plethora of guns he'd brought along.

Angeline unpacked her small bag, tucking the clothes into the bottom drawer of the dresser. Lassiter hung up his work clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles from transport.

When he turned around Angeline was sitting on the bed, staring out the window. She smiled widely, her eyes tracking the seagulls' erratic flight over the waves.

"The beach," she sighed, "It's just as beautiful as I pictured."

Lassiter raised an eyebrow as he tucked away his socks.

"You've never been to the beach?"

"Maybe," Angeline said slowly, her brow furrowing, "When I was little, I think."

"Hmph," Lassiter acknowledged with a grunt, "I'll be right back."

He disappeared out the door, but Angeline didn't turn to look, still mesmerized by the scenery.

He returned, his steps clomping loudly.

"Well, let's go!" he announced.

Angeline turned, puzzled. They just got here. Where were they going now? She couldn't stifle the explosive giggle at the sight that greeted her.

Carlton stood there, frowning at her. A pair of cut-off jeans brushed his knees, revealing the fuzzy expanse of his calves. A brightly-colored Hawaiian shirt clashed with his scowl, orange flowers twisting across his chest. A pair of too-large flip-flops graced his narrow feet.

"I had to borrow some beach clothes from Henry. Now, quit laughing. Are you coming or not?"

Angeline stopped laughing and looked up at him, a mix of excitement and fear on her face.

"To the beach? I… We can go outside?"

"Of course," Carlton said, confused, "We've been outside before. What's the big deal?"

Angeline shook her head and stood, bouncing on her toes.

"No we haven't! We've been to the car and the hospital and to houses, but never outside! Is what I'm wearing okay for the beach?" She looked down, brushing at her sundress.

"It is fine," Lassiter mumbled, running through their time together mentally and realizing what she'd said was true. He'd never taken her outside. He'd never taken her anywhere, really. Ever since he'd 'freed' her, she's been just as imprisoned as ever. The swamp of guilt nearly took his breath away.

"Carlton?" she said softly, taking his hand.

He looked down at her worried frown.

"Did I say something wrong? Do you not want to go anymore?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. He tightened his grip on her hand as her face fell, "You didn't do anything wrong. Let's go."

She smiled tentatively up at him, excitement creeping its way back onto her face.

They went downstairs, her hand still clutching his, and told Henry they'd be back in a little while.

With a grunt of acknowledgement, Henry went back to his intense study of Paula Dean's latest fish fry technique: heavy on the butter.

They stepped out onto the back porch, the wind bringing with it the heavy scent of salt and sun.

She stopped at the edge of the deck, looking down at the well-worn path to the sea.

"I'm afraid," she said, her words almost lost in the wind.

His breath caught in his chest. Something so simple, something he took for granted, terrified her. He leaned down, looking into her eyes.

"I'm here," he said, "Nothing will hurt you."

She looked at him for long moments before her hand tightened around his and she nodded.

"Let's go," she said, taking the first step.

They made their way down to the beach. She pointed out every plant and bush, asking him what they were called.

Carlton did his best to tell her, digging up old beach facts he'd long forgotten. He'd just finished explaining about the loss of sea grass and its effects on beach erosion when they mounted the hill and saw the ocean spread before them.

"Wow," Angeline breathed, gazing out at the sea.

Gulls floated peacefully in the breeze. Sailboats drifted along in the distance; a point of land striking greenly alive into the deep blue water. The faint clanging of a beacon drifted along the beach. Somewhere, a child laughed.

Carlton pulled her forward, their feet sinking unto the loose sand as they approached the tide. They reached the damp sand and Carlton released her hand, bending to remove his shoes. She followed his example, watching attentively as he wiggled his toes into the cool, moist sand.

She let out a squeak of fear and clutched his arm as a vigorous wave crested over their feet, the icy water lapping at their bare calves.

She looked up at him, but he was smiling slightly, his eyes closed as he turned his face towards the slowly setting sun.

Angeline followed his example, raising her face to the sun. Another wave lapped over her feet, but she didn't flinch, her hand still wrapped around his forearm. With her eyes closed, she took in the scents, sounds, and textures of the sea.

The breeze rippled her yellow sundress, the material snapping in the wind. The salty froth tingled on her lips as the sun beat down, drying her legs almost as fast as the waves receded.

She shivered, the steady breeze and the icy water combining to turn the mild November day chilly, the warmth of the sun notwithstanding.

Carlton wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her back until the waves no longer touched them.

Her eyes flew open and she looked up at him.

"Time to go in?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head.

"Not yet," he said, walking with her down the beach until they reached a driftwood log, bleached white by the sun.

They sat down and she leaned into his side, his arm still around her shoulders.

The sun was half gone now, orange and huge against the horizon. The sea was blood-red, and Angeline couldn't help the shiver that pushed her deeper into his side.

The movement was almost visible now, the red turning into a faint salmon-pink, and the sun yellow as buttercups.

The sun dipped below the horizon and the clouds were pink now, the sea purple.

Angeline watched the procession in awe and didn't notice that Carlton was watching her instead.

He stood and she stood with him, her eyes still on the palette of colors.

"Turn around," Carlton ordered softly, his hands on her shoulders turning her.

She gasped as she looked into the distance. Over the houses and trees, the mountains loomed as purple as the ocean. The pink clouds wreathed the tops, curling between them like a soft blanket.

"Keep watching," Carlton murmured into her ear, his chest pressed against her back as his arms wrapped around her collar.

It was only a few moments later when the top of the mountains seemed to light on fire, gold glinting from the spires. The shimmering show only lasted seconds and then it was over, the velvet black curtain rolling down.

It was almost too dark to see, the lights from the houses reflecting off the ocean the only illumination.

Still, when she turned in his arms he could see the tears shining on her cheeks.

"Thank you," she said softly, rising up on her toes to kiss him.


	2. Chapter 2: Brighter Than the Sun

An: This chapter's title is from "Brighter Than the Sun" by Colbie Caillat

"Oh, this is how it starts, lightning strikes the heart. It goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun."

Chapter 2: Brighter Than the Sun

"When this is all over, would you like to go on a date with me?" Carlton asked quietly, spooned around Angeline.

"A date?" Angeline asked, turning her head to look up at him.

Carlton blushed lightly, not meeting her eyes.

"Yeah, you know… dinner someplace nice, with candles and stuff like that."

"Out in public?" she asked quietly, her voice tight.

Lassiter tensed, frowning.

"Something wrong with that?" he rasped, his voice hard and hurt.

She turned in his arms and kissed the corner of his down-turned lips.

"You wouldn't mind being seen with me?" she breathed.

"Mind?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

She snuggled into his chest, hiding her face.

"It's just… you're so handsome and respected and I'm nothing but a…" she mumbled.

"Stop," Carlton said firmly, flushing at the praise and tensing at her devaluation of herself. He brushed the hair back from her cheek, revealing her profile.

"You're smart and beautiful and I'm proud to be seen with you, anytime," he insisted, smirking at the red that stained her cheeks at his words.

They laid together in silence, the low murmur of the sea soothing.

"Could we go dancing?" Angeline finally asked.

Carlton laughed lightly.

"Dancing?" he asked incredulously.

She smiled up at him.

"I saw it on TV the other day. It looked fun."

"I'm not much of a dancer," he warned.

She laughed and hugged him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"You can just stand there and look pretty," she assured him humorously.

"I've never looked 'pretty' in my life," Carlton grumbled, unable to hide a smile.

-000-

"So," Henry grumbled, "Thanksgiving's tomorrow."

Lassiter looked up at him in surprise, spoonful of oatmeal halfway to his lips.

"Already?" he asked in surprise. All that time in the hospital had thrown his time sense for a loop.

Henry chuckled, shaking his head.

"Do you want us to leave?" Angeline asked quietly.

Lassiter blinked quickly, his mind spinning. Thanksgiving was a time for families. Maybe Spencer Senior had plans. But where could they go? The hotels were surely full of visiting relatives this close to the holiday.

"Of course not!" Henry's strong admonition startled him from his thoughts.

"If you have plans…" Lassiter threw in, uncomfortable with the idea of barging in on a Spencer family tradition.

"Hah! Of course I have plans! And you two are a part of them. What, you think I'm going to do all the cooking by my lonesome?" Henry said.

"Cooking?" Lassiter squeaked.

Henry nodded, grinning.

"Lots of it! Let's see… We're feeding my son, of course, and Gus- his parents are on a cruise- and Karen and her husband and Iris…"

"Chief Vick is coming here?" Lassiter asked, sharing a startled glance with Angeline.

"And Juliet…" Henry continued, ignoring the interruption, "and that should be it. Nine all together. Here's the list of groceries we need. Why don't you two get started on clean-up while I head to the store?"

Henry was out the door before Lassiter could protest.

"Since when did we become a maid service?" he groused loudly, staring down into his empty bowl.

Angeline slid the bowl from his hands and smiled at him mischievously.

"Sounds like he'll be gone for a while…" she said.

"Yeah…" Lassiter agreed questioningly.

She raked her gaze down his body, her dark eyes smoldering when she looked up.

"I'll have to take it easy on you, since you're wounded and all."

Carlton gaped at her, his eyes widening. Finally he smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"Not too easy," he said lowly.

She grinned.

-000-

The house was spotless by the time Henry arrived, due more to his considerate lollygagging than any concentrated effort on their part.

Lassiter had taken well to his role, years of bachelordom accustoming him to such menial tasks. Not to say there weren't many distractions, mostly deliberate.

Sandwiches were waiting on the table for Henry when he got home late that afternoon. He didn't complain. The floors were as shiny as he'd ever seen them, his back not up to the strenuous task of mopping as often as he would like.

Decorations graced the mantle, free of dust, and the center of the table. Child-like hand turkeys were given a place of prominence. Henry snorted as he recognized the long fingers of Santa Barbra's Head Detective and shook his head in wonder at what a woman could compel men to do. Indian corn and miniature pumpkins completed the ensemble. A Country Living magazine protruded from the neat stack on the coffee table and answered any questions Henry might have had about the décor inspiration.

Dragging the brown grocery bags into the kitchen, he smiled at the sight of gleaming appliances. He peeked into the oven and nodded in approval. No wonder they'd chosen sandwiches for dinner. They must have been exhausted after all that work.

Heavy footsteps tromped down the stairs. Lassiter poked his head around the corner.

"Need help?" he asked.

Henry shrugged, unpacking the brown bags.

Lassiter loped over, putting away the food as quickly as he could. He winced when he bent to stick the celery in the crisper, something that did not go unnoticed by Henry.

"Don't work too hard," Henry warned, "You'll end up back in the hospital."

Lassiter flushed and turned away in the guise of shelving the canned goods.

Henry snorted.

"Not work-related pain, I see."

Lassiter didn't answer, focused on straightening the line of cans in the pantry. His ears were bright pink.

When all the groceries were put away and the turkey thawing in preparation for the morning, Lassiter finally spoke.

"Thank you, Henry."

"It's nothing," Henry responded quickly, uncomfortable with the sincerity in the other man's eyes.

"It's a lot," Lassiter countered, "You didn't have to allow us to stay here. Didn't have to invite us to your family Thanksgiving. I appreciate it. And I know that Angeline appreciates it too."

"She deserves it. So do you," Henry said gruffly, squeezing Lassiter's shoulder as he pushed past him and out the back door.

"And you're welcome," he said softly as the door closed.


	3. Chapter 3: Stereo Hearts

AN: The last chapter without action. I promise.

This chapter is named for the song "Stereo Hearts" by Gym Class Heroes

"Furthermore, I apologize for any skipping tracks. It's just the last girl that played me left a couple cracks. I take your hand and hold it closer to mine. Thought love was dead, but now you're changing my mind."

**Chapter 3: Stereo Hearts**

Thanksgiving Day dawned cold and rainy. Gone was the Indian summer, the warm sunlight and cool breezes. The temperature hovered in the low forties, icy rain slicing down in curtains. The wind howled around corners, splattering the rain against the windows ferociously.

Henry was up at the crack of dawn to put the turkey in the oven. When the bird was secure, Henry started the stuffing. Angeline joined him, silently tearing the dry bread into pieces and stirring the broth heating on the stove. He finished dicing the celery and added it to the bowl of bread. When he turned to get the spices Angeline was waiting behind him, her hands full of sage and seasonings.

"Thanks," Henry murmured, surprised. Angeline gave a small smile and glanced over at the recipe.

"Sausage and apple?" she asked.

"Yep," Henry responded as he added the flavoring, "It's my mother's recipe. She didn't believe in stuffing the bird with the stuffing. Said it was unsanitary. So she added a twist of her own."

"Sounds good," Angeline said quietly.

"It is if you make it right," Henry said with an impish grin, "Mom didn't believe in measurements, so every year it comes out a little different."

Angeline laughed and Henry smiled genuinely. It was nice to see her happy instead of scared or worried.

"So… how at you at making pies?" he asked casually.

-000-

Juliet was the first to arrive. She came bearing food; a huge basket of yeast rolls carefully covered by her extra raincoat.

"I know I'm a little early…" Juliet said as Henry opened the front door to her knock.

"Nonsense!" Henry said, taking the basket from her and showing her in, "There's no such thing as too early! You're just in time to help me set the table."

"O'Hara," Lassiter greeted somberly, half-hidden by the pile of apples he was methodically slicing.

"Carlton," she said with a smile. Juliet grinned at the 'Kiss the Chef' apron he was wearing, his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows.

"Remember to cut them thin!" Angeline called, wiping her flour-covered hands on her apron as she came out of the kitchen.

She stopped short when she saw Juliet, the smile falling from her face to be replaced by bland neutrality.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Angeline," Juliet said pleasantly, forcing herself to keep smiling.

"You too," Angeline responded quietly before she slipped back into the kitchen.

Henry and Juliet shared a frustrated look before they started moving again.

"I'll get the table settings," Henry said, "They'll be nine of us all together."

Juliet sat next to Lassiter, watching as he finished up the last apple.

"Why doesn't she like me?" O'Hara asked quietly, not really expecting a response.

Lassiter sighed and set down his knife, turning slightly to look at her.

"It's not you," he reassured, his voice low, "You're just… a woman. She doesn't know what to… do… with you."

"She told you that?" Juliet asked hopefully.

Lassiter shrugged and nodded.

A look of determination flitted over Juliet's face and Carlton bit back a moan. O'Hara with a project was like a dog with a bone. Angeline was doomed.

Henry returned with the plates and silverware and Lassiter disappeared into the kitchen with his cutting board piled high.

Juliet and Henry chatted amicably as the table fell into place. Loud arguing drew their attention as the front door banged open, Shawn and Gus entering in their typical fashion.

"It's like the Jordon knot! It's impossible to untangle. I had to cut it!" Shawn exclaimed.

"You mean Gordian, and no it wasn't, Shawn!" Gus argued.

"What does Sam Jones have to do with the knot?"

"That's Flash Gordon!" Gus corrected.

"Commissioner Gordon didn't work with Flash! He was Batman's!" Shawn disputed.

"Enough!" Henry shouted, frowning, "Where's the Cool Whip I told you boys to bring?"

Gus sighed wearily and handed over the damp plastic containers.

"They would have been nice and dry in the plastic bag but _Alexander_ here had to double check that I hadn't bought the sugar free kind."

"It's nasty!" Shawn defended, "I was protecting the sanctity of your famous pumpkin pie!"

"Thanks," Henry said dryly, carrying the dripping containers into the kitchen.

"Hey Jules! You look nice," Shawn greeted.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Juliet," Gus said with a smile.

"Thanks, Shawn, Gus. Happy Thanksgiving to you, too."

"I see my dad's really stocked up on slave labor," Shawn cracked, "You know you have a right to protest his mistreatment under California law!" he shouted into the kitchen.

Lassiter emerged with a scowl, apron long gone.

"I don't need tips on the law from you, Spencer."

"And a happy Thanksgiving to you, Lassieface! Where's your better half?" Shawn winced as Gus elbowed him, "What?" he asked, rubbing his side, "She is!"

"Ixnay on the relationshipay," Gus stage-whispered.

"That was pitiful," Shawn said, shaking his head, "What did I tell you about Pig Latin? You have to throw a snort in there or it just doesn't work!"

"Answer the door!" Henry called.

Gus and Shawn shared a look of confusion. Suddenly, there was a knock. Startled, they turned towards the door.

"You sure your dad's not psychic?" Gus whispered.

Shawn shook his head.

"No, but he's got ears like a bat."

"Door!" Henry commanded from the kitchen.

They opened the door and were immediately greeted by a huge bag and a grumpy two year old.

Gus grabbed the bag from Richard's hands, huffing as the toys, blankets, and other sundry goods weighed more then he'd expected.

Iris was shoved into Shawn's arms, her fingers immediately tangled in his hair.

"Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster, happy Thanksgiving," Karen said as she and her husband stripped out of their overcoats and collapsed, frazzled, onto the couch.

"Ow, ow, ow," Shawn whined as he untangled the little girl's sticky fingers from his previously perfectly mussed coif.

"Karen! Rich! Glad you could make it," Henry greeted, stripping off the oven mitts.

"Henry. Thank you for inviting us," Karen said politely.

"Yes," Rich chimed in, rubbing his eyes, "I'm not sure what we would have done, but I'm pretty certain it would involve the microwave."

Henry barked a laugh.

"Yeah, I remember what Shawn was like at two. It was a good day when there was only one disaster. If you'll excuse me, I've got a bird to check on."

Henry disappeared back into the kitchen and Iris was attached to Shawn's shin as he came over to greet the exhausted parents.

"So you're the Chief's husband! I'm Shawn and this is Gus. It's nice to meet you Rick!"

Shawn and Gus exchanged a look.

"Rick Vick? No. Dick? Dick Vick?"

Gus made a face.

"You're right. It's just too much. Rich it is. Rich Vick. Sounds a little ostentatious to me, but…"

"Mr. Spencer," Karen warned.

"Rich is fine," her husband said, shaking their hands and looking a little shell-shocked at the quick interplay.

"Turkey's on!" Henry announced, emerging from the kitchen with the huge bird on a serving platter, brown and dripping with juices.

"Geeze, Dad! What's you do, get the Tiny Tim special? That thing's as big as I am!"

"Your head, maybe," Gus muttered. Shawn threw him an affronted look as they all went to sit down.

-000-

"There's so many of them," Angeline said anxiously, twisting her apron.

"Just seven," Lassiter reassured her, "No big deal. What happened to the girl that wanted to go out dancing?" he encouraged.

She bit her lip.

"This is different," she insisted, "Those are strangers. Here they'll expect me to talk. What do I talk about? I can't…"

Carlton grasped her shoulder and pulled her into a hug.

"Don't worry," he assured her, "They won't hurt you. They'll like you just the way you are. Besides," he continued, lifting her chin with one finger, "I'll be right there. If Spencer even looks at you wrong I'll…"

Angeline laughed lightly at his threat, seeing the ornery spark in his eyes.

"Okay," she nodded, "Let's go."

She took his hand and they left the kitchen.

Lassiter introduced her to the Chief's family.

"Angeline, this is Chief Vick's husband, Richard, and their daughter, Iris. Richard, Iris, this is Angeline."

"Nice to meet you," Rich said, fighting to get Iris into the highchair, "Call me Rich. Iris, can you say hello to Angeline?"

Iris stopped struggling with her father and looked up at Angeline.

"Hewo Angelic," Iris said seriously, her emerald green eyes peeking up from under her curly blonde hair.

"Hello," Angeline said shyly.

"Let's eat!" Henry said as he started to carve the turkey.

-000-

"I can't eat another bite," Shawn moaned, leaning back in his chair.

"That was the best apple pie I've ever eaten," Gus agreed, eyeing the last slice contemplatively.

"It was Angeline's idea. She made them," Henry said, finishing off his own piece, "I usually just stick with pumpkin," he said to his guests, "but Angeline convinced me that all the extra apples I'd bought shouldn't go to waste."

"They did go to waist," Rich said with a laugh, "Mine!"

Iris giggled, drawing their attention to the floor.

Sometime during dessert, Iris had climbed free of her chair and scuttled over to Angeline.

"Pway wif me, Angelic?" she'd asked, catching them all by surprise.

Angeline had looked over at Lassiter; her eyes wide as the tiny girl gripped her hand and pulled her to her feet.

"You don't have to," Karen said, starting to stand.

Angeline looked from her to the little girl and then smiled slightly.

"It's fine," she said quietly, leaning down to talk to Iris, "I'd like to play with you."

Now the two sat on the floor at the base of the stairs as Iris showed Angeline her collection of multi-colored ponies.

"Dis is Pwincess Wolly. She smells wike strawbewwys. See? Pwetty hair, too!"

"She's very pretty," Angeline agreed.

"She's good with kids," Shawn noted quietly, uncharacteristically serious.

Henry nodded and Lassiter watched contemplatively.

Then all hell broke loose.


	4. Chapter 4: Gives You Hell

AN: Well, here's the action I promised. And an extra-long chapter too! Happy reading.

Chapter title is from "Gives You Hell" by the All-American Rejects.

"When you see my face I hope it gives you hell. I hope it gives you hell. If you find a man that's worth a damn and treats you well, then he's a fool. You're just as well, hope it gives you hell."

**Chapter 4: Gives You Hell**

The glass on the back door shattered, tinkling to the floor like a massive wind chime.

For a split second, Henry thought the wind had blown a branch into it, and then the front door shuddered in its frame as someone slammed against it.

Lassiter was over the table before Henry could blink; his Glock ready as he moved to take shelter in the stairwell next to Angeline and Iris.

Henry scrambled for his guns, ripping the duct taped weapons off from under the dining table as he shoved it on its side. He handed the spare to Shawn.

Juliet hunched down in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen, tucked beside the safety of the refrigerator- her weapon drawn.

Karen directed her husband to crouch in the safety of the massive overturned table next to Gus, who was dialing the station as fast as his fingers could fly.

"Iris!" Rich cried, fighting his wife's firm grip as the front door fell open and bullets started flying from the back.

Lassiter met Karen's angry, frightened gaze and nodded sharply.

He turned to Angeline, taking his attention from Biel's huge form hulking in the front doorway long enough to form a plan.

"Take Iris. Get upstairs. Now!" he ordered, throwing himself backwards as a bullet chipped off the bannister.

Iris was already clinging to Angeline's neck, her face buried in her shoulder as she wailed her fear. Angeline nodded, her eyes pleading with him to be careful.

A man yelped in pain and Lassiter turned his attention back to the battle.

"Shawn!" Gus and Henry both cried out as Henry yanked his son back behind the table.

"I'm fine!" Shawn insisted loudly, dismissing the steadily bleeding scratch on his left shin. He rose to his knees and fired back at Lucien, who was using the oven for cover.

Lassiter's eyes narrowed and he sank down as low as he could. The couch protruded a few inches into the space between the stairs and the front room and he used it to cover his approach. Henry and Juliet were keeping Lucien covered and the Chief was distracting Biel as Carlton crept into position.

After what felt like an eternity, Carlton had the huge bald man in his sights. One… more… inch.

Got him!

Biel went down without a sound; a perfect circle of red just above his right ear.

Lassiter scrambled over to the body and nodded at the Chief as he verified the kill.

Before he could join his partner, there was a masculine cry of pain from the kitchen.

"Stay down!" he heard O'Hara command, the distinctive clinking of handcuffs relaxing his shoulders.

They'd done it.

The group gathered in the kitchen as Henry covered Juliet while she cuffed Lucien.

The man's long blonde hair was stringy and dull, still wet with rain. His dark shirt was stained darker with blood, and it was difficult to see exactly where O'Hara's bullet had penetrated.

She finished cuffing him and let him fall onto his back with a moan.

"Backup should be here any minute," Gus offered from his hiding place.

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Gus, don't be a furless kiwi! We got 'em; get out from behind the table!" Shawn said, handing the gun back to his father and leaning wearily against the counter. The scratch on his left leg had morphed into a slice, coating the bottom of his jeans and his previously lime-green shoe in crimson.

Rich hugged his wife's shoulders tightly, brushing a kiss across her hair.

"Thank God," he said.

They all looked up at the loud scraping sound from upstairs.

-000-

Angeline stumbled into the bathroom, her right shoulder burning like fire. She transferred Iris onto her left hip as she grabbed a hand towel and held it awkwardly to the graze.

"Owie?" Iris sniffled, tiny hands reaching over to help.

"It's okay," Angeline said softly, trying to block out the gunfire echoing from downstairs, "I'll fix it."

She turned to get a clean towel and looked up in the mirror.

She froze, bloody rag dropping from her numb fingers.

Daemon. He was here. His back was to them for now, and he crept closer to the stairwell.

Angeline's mind spun in dizzying circles as she turned around. She had to get out of the bathroom. The door wouldn't hold for a moment, and there was nowhere to hide. She had to move. Now.

Iris sniffled again and Angeline's stomach plummeted. No! The baby. She had to protect Iris. Getting away from Daemon was more important than ever. It wasn't just her life on the line. He'd kill Iris without a second thought.

"Iris," Angeline whispered, "You have to be very quiet. There's a bad man here, and we have to hide. Okay?"

"Hwde and seek?" Iris whispered back, her eyes wide.

Angeline nodded.

"But you have to be quiet, okay?"

"Shh," Iris put her finger up to her lips.

Angeline forced a smile, her eyes on Daemon's back.

When he was far enough away, Angeline slid out the door, her back to the wall. She tiptoed down the hallway, her steps as light and silent as she could make them. Finally, she reached Shawn's room. She slipped in and drew her first breath since she'd spotted Daemon.

Iris clung to her like her life depended on it, which it did. One of her hands was around Angeline's neck, the other pressed against her booboo.

Angeline looked out the door, not daring to shut it in fear of Daemon hearing.

She watched as he drew closer to the stairs, the gun in his hand large and menacing.

Carlton.

Carlton was at the bottom of the stairs. Carlton had his back to the stairs.

Daemon was going to kill Carlton.

Angeline looked down at the babe in her arms; the trusting emerald eyes meeting hers.

Carlton or Iris. She had to choose.

-000-

Lassiter raced up the stairs, Karen and Henry hot on his heels.

It was quiet now and the time it took to clear each area before moving on ate at Carlton's soul like acid.

Then he spotted the tiny red handprint.

Along the beige wall at slightly lower than eye level, the burgundy smear stood out- an ominous portend.

Karen's lips were pursed together so tight that they'd lost all color, her knuckles bloodless as she clasped her weapon.

They moved down the hall and cleared the bathroom; a collective wince at the sight of the bloody cloth.

"They're hurt," Karen said lowly, her voice filled with pain, "Someone hurt my child."

"Daemon," Lassiter murmured, "Has to be."

There was a scrape of movement from Shawn's room. All three of them ran down the hall.

Lassiter entered first, using his shoulder to throw open the unlatched door.

There was the crash of glass shattering as a form leapt through the window, lightning blinding Lassiter long enough that he was unable to get off a shot.

"No!" Lassiter growled as the man disappeared into the darkness.

"Did he have them? Did you see?" Karen asked, her voice high and tight.

"I don't know," Lassiter responded, his voice cracking as his hands clenched, "I don't know."

-000-

The tattered sweatshirt wouldn't be much protection, but it was all she could find quickly. At least it was large and black. She threw it on, zipping it up around Iris and effectively cocooning her.

She opened the window, the icy droplets stinging her skin as the wind whipped into the room.

The dresser was already beside the door. It was heavy, but Angeline knew she could move it when she had to.

It was time.

"Hold on tight. Like a baby monkey, okay?" Angeline whispered to Iris. The little girl smiled up at her, still thinking this was a game, but her legs were firmly wrapped around Angeline's waist and her arms around her neck.

"Daemon!" Angeline called softly, not wanting to draw attention from downstairs.

It was enough.

Daemon turned, his expression of surprise almost comical.

Before he could move, Angeline slammed the door shut and heaved the dresser over in front of it.

Almost as soon as she was done, Daemon started shoving.

Angeline clambered out of the window and onto the broad overhang, the wind nearly knocking her off her feet. The rain sliced into her skin like a thousand tiny teeth, but she looked around, the room lighting the darkness just enough for her to spot a hiding place.

Over the sound of the rain and wind Angeline heard the dresser shriek as Daemon pushed the door open further.

She ducked into the space she'd chosen. Hopefully Daemon would assume she'd fled. Hopefully he'd never think to look in the small crack where the overhang met the garage.

Wedging her body into the small space, Angeline made sure Iris was curled securely against her chest. She yanked up the sweatshirt's hood to cover her as much as possible and waited; her back to the danger.

He'd have to go through her to hurt Iris.

But she really hoped it wouldn't come to that.

-000-

Lassiter came in the back door, carefully stepping around the broken glass. He shook out his wet hair and hung up his drenched overcoat before he turned towards the group.

Henry was bandaging his son's leg. Shawn had refused to go to the hospital, or even call an EMT, so Gus had retrieved the much-used First Aid kit and watched queasily as Henry went to work.

Karen had returned minutes before. She and Rich were soaked to the bone and pale as ghosts.

Juliet was on the phone, pacing the demolished dining room.

"Any news?" Lassiter asked, his voice monotone. He knew it was a foolish question. They would have called him.

O'Hara snapped the phone shut and strode into the room, her face serious as she delivered the latest report.

"A patrol spotted a man meeting Daemon's description about a mile north of here. He was heading East on a Harley. He got away from them, but they know he was alone."

Lassiter nodded silently.

"But that's good, right?" Gus asked, looking from one somber face to another, "He didn't have Angeline or Iris with him!"

"Gus…" O'Hara started, falling silent when the words wouldn't come.

"It means that the chances of finding them alive have just dropped," Lassiter said coldly, his fingers clenching and unclenching around his holstered sidearm.

Rich gasped and Gus paled.

"I don't understand…" Gus stammered.

"If he took them and didn't keep them… Then he probably killed them," Henry said, his voice soft but firm. He looked over at Rich and Karen sympathetically.

"But we'll keep looking!" Karen said loudly, her voice ringing with authority, "They could have escaped. We need to search the area again; starting in the direction the suspect was last seen."

She pulled on her coat once more, the drenched material essentially useless.

"Karen…" Henry murmured.

"Don't, Henry!" Karen snapped, "It's my daughter out there. I'm going to find her. And I'm going to bring her home."

"We're going to find her," Rich added, holding his wife's shoulder in support.

They left, but Lassiter didn't follow. Instead he stood silently in the doorway, his eyes staring up through the ceiling like he had x-ray vision.

Juliet returned to her call, trying to keep informed.

After a few minutes of silence, Lassiter finally looked over at Shawn and spoke.

"Spen… Shawn. Can you… divine anything?" Carlton asked, his voice brittle.

Henry and Shawn shared a look and then Shawn nodded.

"I'll try, Lassie. We'll find them."

Lassiter nodded sharply and watched as Gus and Henry helped Shawn stand, his wounded leg stiff and tender.

Lassiter led the way to the stairs, impatiently huffing when Shawn paused at the bottom.

"Come on," he growled.

"Were you hurt?" Shawn asked suddenly.

Lassiter blinked quickly before responding.

"No, of course not! I'm fine. What's that got to do with…"

Shawn cut him off.

"Well, if you're not hurt, then this must not be your blood."

Carlton moved to Shawn's side, squinting down as he examined the bullet hole in the plaster. Sure enough, there was a tiny bit of blood on one side and a thread.

"Blue," Lassiter muttered and Shawn nodded.

"Iris was wearing pink. It must have hit Angeline," Shawn said confidently.

"Before she went upstairs?" Lassiter asked, "Why wouldn't she say anything?"

"Probably didn't feel it yet," Henry offered, "Not enough blood to be a through-and-through. Has to be a graze."

Lassiter nodded and they continued up the stairs.

Shawn paused at the top, leaning heavily on Gus as his leg complained. He took the opportunity to scan the area. Raising his fingers to his temple, Shawn spoke.

"I see it," he said, "She was carrying Iris when she was hit. She didn't feel it until she made it upstairs. It hit her shoulder. She started to feel it when she accidently brushed the corner there," Shawn said, pointing at the tiny smear of blood to his right, "And then she went into the bathroom, trying to get something to stop the bleeding."

He limped towards the bathroom using Gus as a crutch. Lassiter backed away to let him look in, Henry peering over his shoulder.

"She was looking around for something better than a hand towel. It was her right shoulder that was hurt, so she was looking in the mirror when she saw…" Shawn trailed off, pulling away from Gus and hopping into the bathroom. He looked into the mirror, hunching down slightly so that he was at Angeline's height. His eyes widened and he turned around quickly, nearly falling before Gus steadied him.

"What? What happened?" Lassiter asked, his hand hovering over his weapon like he could shoot whatever Shawn's 'vision' had shown.

"She just missed him," Shawn muttered. His eyes flickered over to his dad.

"Go on," Henry urged.

"Daemon came in through Dad's room. Probably broke the window. It'd not clear right now. But the same moment that Angeline came into the bathroom, he came out of the bedroom. He had his back to the rest of the house. He was only interested in downstairs," Shawn paused and frowned, "He'd been watching. He knew we were all downstairs. Biel and Lucien were a distraction."

"A distraction for what?" Gus asked.

Shawn shut his eyes, remembering how long the surprise attack had taken. How loud Biel and Lucien had been in their attack. There were better, easier ways to sneak up on someone. So why did they…?

"Not a distraction. Herding. They were supposed to herd us back towards the stairs and the dining room. We'd be concentrating on them, not upstairs…" Shawn said, his brow furrowing as he pieced it together.

"We'd be vulnerable to attack from behind. He could pick off Angeline and get away before we even knew he was there," Lassiter finished, a look of sickened appreciation for Daemon's tactics flitting over his face.

Shawn nodded and opened his eyes.

"She saw him and waited. Waited until it was safe to move. She had to get somewhere she could escape," Shawn leaned on Gus again as they went down the hall, pausing at the little red handprint.

"Angeline's completely forgotten about her wound," Shawn muttered, fingers hovering over the little hand, "But Iris didn't. She's trying to help her. Hold in the blood."

"Good kid," Henry said softly.

Lassiter nodded, his breath caught in his throat at the thought. Two years old was far too young to be treating bullet wounds and sneaking away from bad guys. And yet, Iris did it.

"She went to my room," Shawn said as they continued, "Moving the dresser must have…" Shawn stopped and bent to examine the door closer, "What in the world?" he muttered.

Henry and Lassiter shared a puzzled look.

"What is it, kid?" Henry asked.

Shawn stood and turned, squinting down the hall towards the stairs. His eyes widened and he looked over at Lassiter.

"Oh my God," Shawn said softly, "She saved your life."

Lassiter frowned, confused.

"What are you talking about?"

Shawn gestured towards the stairs.

"Where were you during the shootout?" he asked impatiently.

"At the bottom of the stairs, trying to get a bead on Biel," Lassiter replied, still not getting it.

"So your back was to the rest of the house. You were an easy target! Daemon was standing at the top, his gun drawn," Shawn explained, miming someone aiming a gun downstairs and firing a single shot.

"Pow. No more Lassie," Shawn said, his voice deadly serious.

"What stopped him?" Gus asked, green at the thought.

"Angeline," Shawn said, "She made a noise, called out, something. But she made sure he was coming after her instead. Only then did she push the dresser in front of the door- to buy herself some time."

"She could have gone out the window and Daemon wouldn't have even known she was ever here. She would have had plenty of time to get away," Henry noted.

"But she didn't. To save me," Lassiter muttered, shaking his head, "She gave her life, both their lives, to save me. Damn it!" Lassiter roared, his fist flying into the plaster.

"Damn her," he said softly, looking down and flexing his now bloody hand.

"She's not dead," Shawn stated, "And neither is Iris. She wouldn't have risked Iris' life. Her own, yes, but not the baby's. Angeline had a plan."

"How the hell do you know, Spencer?" Lassiter growled, glaring over at him.

Shawn waved his fingers at his temples.

"Psychic, remember? Plus… my lucky sweatshirt's missing. She went out the window before Daemon got in. And he must have still been looking for her when you got up here or he wouldn't have had to jump out the window himself. He didn't find her, Lassie. They got away!"

A flash of lightning punctuated Shawn's assertion and their eyes went to the storm still pounding away.

"They're hiding somewhere out there. But we'll find them," Shawn said confidently.

The wind howled as icy rain blew into the open window, chilling them instantly.

"We'll find them," Shawn repeated quietly, worry creeping its way back into his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5: Wonderful Thing About Tiggers

AN: This chapter took the longest of any! Between interruptions and the INTENSE difficulty I had in describing Lassie's emotions (darn that Irish disposition) I never thought I'd get done.

However, I made the cutest Psych/Pooh banner inspired by this chapter. Go to (photobucket . com / spookysister7 _ psych) to see it! (Take out the spaces.)

The title of this chapter comes from Winnie the Pooh's Tigger song.

"The wonderful thing about Tiggers is Tiggers are wonderful things!  
>Their tops are made out of rubber; their bottoms are made out of springs!<br>They're bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!  
>But the most wonderful thing about Tiggers is I'm the only one!"<p>

**Chapter 5: The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers**

"I'm cold," Iris complained, squirming uncomfortably in Angeline's lap.

Angeline sighed, trying to suppress the shivering that wracked her body. The icy rain had completely soaked through the back of the sweatshirt, soaking her to the bone. The hood was dripping water down through her hair, pooling at her lower back.

How long had they been out here? Was it safe to go in? Was Daemon still looking for them?

She lifted Iris a little higher in her arms, trying to keep her from the dampness that crept up the fibers of her jeans. Thankfully, the roof protected her front, allowing Iris to stay dry. But dry apparently wasn't good enough.

"I've got an idea," Angeline said softly, "Why don't you pretend I'm a kangaroo? You can get in my pouch," she offered, raising her sweater. The woolen material should help keep Iris warm.

Iris' eyes lit up at the idea and she immediately snuggled underneath, between the blue sweater and the white turtleneck, her head popping up below Angeline's chin.

"You're Kanga and I'm Roo!" Iris announced with a giggle.

Angeline laughed lightly. Winnie the Pooh. She remembered that.

"Well, if I'm Kanga, than who's your mommy?" Angeline asked, trying to distract the little girl from their precarious position.

Iris frowned in concentration, and then smiled.

"Mommy's Cwistopher Wobin!" she announced, "Because she's in charge!"

Angeline laughed and nodded.

"And Daddy?" she asked.

"He's Pooh!" Iris said.

"Of course," Angeline agreed.

"And Shawn is Tigger, because he's bowncy!" Iris bounced a little to prove her point, "And Gus is Owl, because he twaks a wot. And… and Jewiet is Pigwit! Because she's wittle and Henwy is Eeyore because he's gwochy. And Uncle Cawlton is Wabbit!"

Angeline couldn't stop chuckling breathlessly, her mind automatically paring the group downstairs with their animal counterparts. Carlton as Rabbit. It was just too perfect.

They sat in silence for a little while as Iris chewed contemplatively on her thumb and Angeline tried to keep track of when it would be safe to emerge. Her right arm had gone numb long ago and she could no longer feel her legs. In fact, the only parts of her that still had feeling were the parts that Iris was curled up against.

The wind was blowing harder than ever, howling like a thousand voices all calling her name. How long had it been? Were they safe?

"Can we go home now?" Iris asked, "I'm tiwed of dis game."

"Not yet," Angeline soothed, "We're hiding from the bad man, remember? We have to wait until Uncle Carlton or your mommy finds us. How about I tell you a story?"

"A Pooh stowy?" Iris asked.

"Of course," Angeline said, "Now, once upon a time in the hundred acre woods Rabbit was tending his garden. The carrots were all in perfect little rows and everything was good. He'd chased away all the bugs so they wouldn't eat his carrots and was just about to go inside and take a nap when he heard a strange sound."

"What was it?" Iris whispered.

"Rabbit wasn't scared of anything because he had his bug spray. He picked up his bug sprayer and marched into his house, ready to scare away whatever had made that awful noise. When he saw who had made the noise he dropped his bug spray and pulled at his ears.

'Tigger! Owl!' Rabbit said, 'Why are you in my house?'

'We need your help, Rabbit!' Tigger said, 'We went to visit Kanga and Roo, but they weren't home! We can't find them!'"

"That's us!" Iris said with a giggle.

"'Okay,' Rabbit said, 'I'll go to their house and look- as long as you clean up the mess you made!'

'Owl did it!' Tigger said, pointing at his friend.

'I say now!' Owl said, 'I did no such thing! I merely supervised!'

'Because I'm super!' Tigger exclaimed.

'Arg!' Rabbit said, ignoring the two friends. All three of them went to Kanga and Roo's house and knocked on the door, but no one answered.

'See!' said Tigger, 'I told you no one was home! They're missing!'

'Maybe they're just asleep,' Rabbit said, 'Owl, go get Piglet. She's small enough to go in the window and see if they are home.'

Owl flew away and came back with Christopher Robin, Piglet, Pooh, and Eeyore following him.

'We all came when we heard that Kanga and Roo are missing!' Pooh said. 'They could be anywhere!'

'Oh d-d-dear!' Piglet stuttered.

'Not anywhere, Pooh,' Christopher Robin said, 'They can't be on a cloud or in a mailbox! Silly old bear.'"

Iris laughed and shook her head. Angeline blinked back the exhaustion knawing on her and continued.

"Well, Piglet went into the house, but there was no one home.

'What do we do now, Christopher Robin?' Pooh asked.

'We look for them!' Christopher Robin said.

It started to rain hard and everyone looked up.

'Of course,' Eeyore moaned, starting his search.

All the animals spread out, calling Kanga and Roo's names.

They walked and walked and called and called. They looked high and low…"

Angeline fell silent, her weak voice fading.

"And den what, Angelic?" Iris asked after a few seconds of silence.

"I'm tired," Angeline said softly, "Let's take a little nap. Just for a minute…" her voice faded.

-000-

"You said they were out there, Spencer, so where are they?" Lassiter demanded as he reentered the house, soaked to the bone and shivering even in the stifling warmth of the kitchen.

Shawn followed him inside, still using Gus as a crutch. They were covered in mud and looked as bedraggled as Lassiter, but that didn't stop Shawn's attempt to re-fluff his hair.

"They're out there, Lassie. They must be hiding from Daemon somewhere, waiting until it's safe to come out."

"You'd think us screaming their names for hours on end would be a clue," Gus groused, dumping Shawn into a chair and rubbing at his sore shoulder.

"We'd be better off whispering," Henry said as he forced the door shut against the gale-force winds, "They'll never hear us in this storm." He looked over at the exhausted searchers, "We'll have to wait until the storm clears before we look again."

"I'm not just going to sit here when…" Lassiter started, but Karen cut him off.

"Henry's right. We're just exhausting ourselves. We'll have to wait it out and hope they've found somewhere safe and dry to hide. That's all we can do now."

So they waited. And watched.

Eventually the storm ebbed, rains still misting slightly and turning the early morning hours into a hazy blanket. Armed with flashlights, the search resumed.

Shawn and Gus stuck close to the house, as did Lassiter. He didn't quite know why, it certainly wasn't faith in Shawn's psychic abilities, but he felt like Spencer was the most likely to find them.

"Angeline! Iris!" Carlton called, his voiced echoed distantly by other searchers.

He opened his mouth to call again when he heard it: a faint, tiny voice.

"Angeline! Iris!" Guster yelled, dragging Shawn along as they rounded the back of the house.

"Shh!" Carlton said, cocking his head as he listened intently.

For once, the duo listened to him and fell silent, Spencer copying his motion.

"Uncle Cawlton!" Iris' tiny voice rose out of the mist, bouncing from the corners of the house but unmistakably hers.

"Oh my goodness," Gus gaped, "We found them!"

"Call the Chief," Lassiter ordered, drawing closer to the house and looking up.

They weren't inside, but where could they be outside? It sounded like Iris was on the roof, but how was that possible? They would have seen them! Wait… Was Angeline with her? Was Iris by herself? Was she okay?

"Iris, are you hurt?" Carlton called, motioning Guster to be quiet as he spoke.

"Uh-uh," Iris said, "I'm 'kay!"

"Is Angeline with you?" Lassiter asked.

"Yes," Iris said, "She's sweeping and won't get up. Wake up, Angelic!"

Lassiter paled and looked over at Shawn, their eyes meeting in horror.

"Make her get up, Uncle Cawlton!" Iris ordered tearily.

"Just hold on," Carlton called finally, "Chi- your mommy and I are coming to get you," he said as Karen and her husband ran towards him.

"Iris!" Karen called.

"Mommy!" Iris yelled back, excited, "Hwde and seek ober now?"

Karen nearly sobbed in relief at the sound of her child's voice.

"Yes, baby. It's time to go home now!" she said finally, tears threatening.

Henry strode around the side of the garage dragging a tall aluminum ladder. Almost before it was locked open, Lassiter started up it to the roof, Karen right at his heels.

"Get some EMTs up here," Henry told Gus gruffly as he held the ladder, his mind spinning with thoughts of Angeline's continued silence, "Shawn, where are they?"

Shawn, silent through the whole thing, finally spoke up.

"There's only one place I could think of that we wouldn't have seen them," Shawn said with a deep frown, "Remember my hiding spot when I was little?"

"That tiny crack you stuffed yourself into until you got too big? Yeah, I remember, but there's no way she could…" Henry said, trailing off, his brow furrowed.

Lassiter and Karen stood on the overhang, carefully stepping on the slippery shingles.

"Where are they?" Lassiter snapped, running his flashlight over the empty expanse.

"Try looking at the corner by the garage!" Shawn yelled.

Lassiter turned his flashlight in that direction. The shadowy corner seemed empty, and yet… There was something there. A lighter shadow. He moved closer to the narrow crack, hunching over to peer beneath the garage's overhang.

The darkness moved, a flash of blond peeking out.

"Uncle Cawlton?" Iris' voice squeaked.

"Holy…" Carlton muttered, handing the flashlight to Karen as he kneeled beneath the overhang. It just wasn't possible. The crack was too narrow to fit any adult, even one as petit as Angeline.

"I'm stuck-ted," Iris fussed.

"Hold on, honey," Karen said, "Mommy's here."

Carlton pulled off the hood of the black jacket, revealing a curtain of dark, damp hair and Angeline's pale profile. She didn't move.

With trembling fingers, Carlton felt her neck for a pulse. Nothing.

"No, no, no," Carlton whispered frantically, pressing harder.

"Uncle Cawlton!" Iris said with a smile as she peeked her head out over Angeline's shoulder, "You fownd us! You win!"

Karen's hand gripped his forearm, forcing him back to reality.

"Let's get them out of there," she said softly.

Carlton nodded, forcing back the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. He gently gripped the material of the oversized and completely soaked jacket and pulled Angeline and Iris from the hole they were wedged in. He laid her back, tucking the hood of the jacket under her head for padding.

Karen moved quickly once they were free of the hole. Unzipping the jacket, she slid her child from under Angeline's sweater and picked her up, holding her tightly.

"Iris, my baby," Karen said as she laid kisses in her hair, tears escaping her eyes.

Iris giggled happily and squirmed in her mother's arms.

Carlton turned his attention away from the happy scene, his heat skipping a beat as he looked down at Angeline's still form.

"Uncle Cawlton, make Angelic wake up!" Iris ordered, tiny fist on her hip just like her mother.

The EMT's clamored up the ladder and Lassiter moved aside as they went to work, his icy, pale hand covering his mouth.

Karen and Iris went down the ladder, a joyous cry of Daddy echoing from below.

Lassiter stood and watched, familiar words from the EMTS like hypothermia and exposure washing over him.

A weak cough yanked him to attention, his eyes locked on the sight of Angeline's worried frown. Her face quickly resumed its neutrality as she sank back into unconsciousness, but it was enough. She was still alive.

They lowered Angeline down carefully, the rescue board tied at all four corners. Lassiter helped them, his numb hands tight around the rough rope. Finally Henry, Rich and Gus lowered her safely to the ground.

Lassiter climbed down behind the EMTs, and they all watched as the medical professionals slid Angeline into the back of the ambulance.

"Go," Henry urged Lassiter as the EMTs prepared to leave, "We'll meet you at the hospital."

With a nod Lassiter jumped into the ambulance, crammed his lanky form into the corner, and watched as the EMTs fought for Angeline's life.


	6. Chapter 6: Forever and Ever Amen

AN: The title of this chapter comes from the song "Forever and Ever Amen" by Randy Travis

"If you wonder how long I'll be faithful; I'll be happy to tell you again. I'm gonna love you forever and ever, forever and ever, Amen."

**Chapter 6: Forever and Ever Amen**

She was alive. Carlton kept reminding himself of that over and over again as he sat at her bedside, watching her shiver as they pumped warmed IVs into her. Her body was covered in so many warm blankets that it was hard to tell where she actually laid, only her face and one hand peeking out from beneath the standard white.

Why was everything so white in a hospital? Okay, so it's easier to bleach everything when its white- kill the germs, get out blood and whatnot, but still. It was depressing. White meant coldness and death and emptiness. And the smell: disinfectant and sickness, plastic and blood and vomit.

It didn't matter what hospital you were in, they all smelled the same. He had to burn the last suit he'd worn to the hospital. He'd have to burn this one too. And the jacket. Not that it wasn't ruined already; covered in mud and stained, ripped on the left sleeve.

At least she was just sleeping now. Her eyes had fluttered open when her temperature topped 90 degrees (and how terrifying it was to think how low it was BEFORE that) and she'd whispered his name with a smile before they closed again.

Iris had kept her alive. Her core temperature was as high as it was because of the tiny, warm body pressed against hers. Karen had stopped by earlier, Iris asleep on her shoulder. The baby was fine; a little thirsty and a lot tired, but warm and safe and dry.

They'd gone home, as had Shawn (reluctantly bandaged) and Henry. Gus stuck around a while longer to translate doctor-speak for him, but had finally gone home also. O'Hara had offered to stay through the night and keep him company, but the bags under her eyes and the slight limp had him pushing her out the door before she could finish her sentence.

Once again, he was alone. He could go forever before he ever sat by Angeline's bedside again.

Carlton took her slowly thawing hand in his, careful of the IV. Her other arm was safely under the blanket, bandaged and in a sling. She'd managed to dislocate her shoulder when she'd shoved herself into that impossibly small crack and almost dislocated her hip as well. Already he'd seen glimpses of huge bruises forming there.

It hadn't been quite cold enough to cause frostbite, so all her extremities were fine. She'd be fine.

Carlton slept.

-000-

"Here," Iris said, handing Angeline one of her prized ponies, "She's gots wings just wike you."

"I have wings?" Angeline asked with a small smile, taking the tiny pink toy from the precariously balanced little girl.

Iris nodded seriously and gestured for Carlton to pick her up from her stance on the chair. He'd been hovering protectively since she'd clambered up there to see Angeline better.

"My mommy says all angels gots wings," Iris insisted.

Angeline looked over at the Chief in surprise. Karen nodded and smiled meaningfully.

"Thank you," Angeline whispered, her voice breaking.

Juliet sniffed quietly from the corner.

The sudden stillness was broken by Shawn's entrance.

"And how's our patient? Impatient? Inpatient? Patent?" Shawn asked loudly, his arms wide as he stood in the doorway.

"That doesn't even make any sense, Shawn," Gus griped as he pushed past his boisterous friend.

Henry entered silently behind them, nodded at Angeline, and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Well, well, the gang's all here!" Shawn said, shutting the door and clapping his hands together, "Now what?"

Carlton opened his mouth to suggest several options, most of them painful, when Iris piped up.

"Angelic finish the stowy!" she said happily, wiggling in Carlton's arms.

"Story?" Karen asked, raising an eyebrow.

Iris nodded and Shawn pulled up a chair, considering Angeline expectantly.

"Oh, I love stories! What's it about?" he asked, looking all of five years old.

"Winnie da Pooh! And we's all in it!" Iris said.

Angeline winced and Shawn's grin grew.

"We are?" Shawn asked, bouncing his feet, "Who am I?"

Iris frowned in thought and then smiled.

"Oh, I 'member! You's Tigger!" she said, looking around in confusion when the whole room broke out laughing.

When they'd calmed themselves slightly, and Shawn had stopped bouncing off the walls, Gus was the next to encourage Iris.

"Who am I?" he asked.

"Owl," Iris said.

They all looked at each other in confusion for a moment, and then Shawn spoke up.

"She's got your number, Bud! Stuffy and a know-it-all who's always wrong!"

"Excuse me?" Gus huffed, pushing out his chest, "I'll have you know…" he stopped when Shawn wouldn't stop pointing and laughing.

"See?"

Gus gave in with a sigh.

"Fine. Then who's your dad?" he asked Shawn, glancing over at Iris.

"That's easy," Shawn said, throwing his arm over his dad's shoulder, "He's Pooh! He's got the gut for it!"

Henry pushed him off and scowled.

"Nu-uh!" Iris said, shaking her head, "Daddy is Pooh. Henwy's Eeyore!"

They couldn't contain the snort of laughter, strengthened by Henry's amused scowl.

"Who am I?" Juliet asked curiously, trying to defuse the situation.

"Pigwit!" Iris answered. Another round of chuckles.

"She may be small, but she's dangerous," Carlton warned as Juliet glared at Shawn and Gus.

"Mommy's Cwistopher Wobin," Iris continued impatiently, "And I'm Roo and Angelic is Kanga 'cause she's gots a pouch!"

Lassiter and Karen shared a look as they remembered finding Iris tucked inside Angeline's sweater.

"Wait a minute," Shawn said with a widening grin, "That only leaves one left for Lassie…"

Shawn and Gus looked at each other and spoke in concert.

"Rabbit!"

Lassiter glared as even Juliet broke out laughing.

"Oh my God! That's too perfect," she snickered quietly.

"Finish stowy!" Iris demanded, leaning towards Angeline.

Angeline smiled and coughed a little.

"Okay," she said, sitting up, "So, where was I? Oh, yes. Everyone was searching high and low for Kanga and Roo. They called their names over and over again, but no one answered.

'We'll never find them!' Tigger said.

'It's hopeless!' Owl agreed, shaking the rain from his feathers.

'We have to keep looking,' Christopher Robin insisted.

'But where could they be?' Pooh asked.

'M-m-maybe they were eaten by a m-m-monster!' Piglet said.

'No!' Rabbit said, 'I know where they are!'

'You do?' asked Eeyore.

'There is a cave deep in the woods. I bet they're hiding in there!' Rabbit said, 'I'm going. Who's with me?'

No one spoke up. They were all too afraid of the deep, dark woods. All but Rabbit."

"Hey!" Shawn started to interrupt.

"Shh!" Iris shushed, frowning.

Shawn fell silent while the others laughed quietly. Iris was just as intimidating as her mother.

Angeline continued.

"'I'll go with you,' Christopher Robin said finally.

So Rabbit and Christopher Robin went into the deepest, darkest part of the Hundred Acre Woods. They walked and walked, still calling Kanga and Roo's names. They were dirty and cold and wet, but they didn't stop looking.

Finally, they reached the cave. It was a little cave, just big enough for one person.

'Kanga?' Rabbit called.

'Roo?' Christopher Robin yelled.

At first there was no answer, and then Rabbit heard it- a faint, tiny little voice."

"It was Roo!" Iris said happily.

"Yes," Angeline said with a smile, "It was Roo.

'We're here!' Roo called, 'But we're stuck and we can't get out!'

Rabbit and Christopher Robin reached into the cave and pulled and pulled. Finally, with a POP, Kanga and Roo fell out.

'Oh, thank you!' Kanga said, 'We were on a walk and it started to rain, so we went into the cave to hide.'

'But then we got stuck!,' Roo finished.

'Thank you for rescuing us,' Kanga said.

'It was Rabbit who knew where to look' Christopher Robin said, 'We wouldn't have found you without him!'

'Thank you, Rabbit!' Roo said, giving him a hug.

'Just glad you're okay,' Rabbit said grumpily as he blushed."

"Thank you Uncle Cawlton," Iris said, hugging his neck.

Carlton looked surprised but smiled slightly.

"And so the friends all went back through the dark woods. When they got home everyone was waiting. They were so happy to see Kanga and Roo safe and sound that they threw a big party," Angeline said.

"And they all wived happiwy eber after!" Iris finished.

"Yes," Karen said, taking Iris from Carlton and kissing her cheek, "They did. But it's somebody's naptime now, so we have to go home."

Karen, Iris and Rich left. Henry scooted out the door after them, promising to come back tomorrow morning to give Angeline and Carlton a ride home.

"You know, a party doesn't sound like a bad idea…" Shawn said.

"Don't even think about it!" Carlton growled, sinking tiredly into his chair.

Gus shook his head and sighed.

"Come on, Shawn, let Angeline get some rest," Gus insisted, watching as she could hardly keep her eyes open.

Shawn protested half-heartedly but let his friend tug him out of the room. Turning to shut the door, Shawn couldn't resist a parting shot.

"Hey, Rabbit! T.T.F.N., ta ta for now!" he said, grinning as Carlton glowered at him.

AN: And that's it for Thanksgiving Daze. Stay tuned for Christmas Mourning. I am SINCERELY hoping I don't go past New Year's Eve(n)… Angeline's begging me for Valen-tines' Day. :(


End file.
